The stench of the damp, dark dungeon where the class had first arrived had finally faded. The air was clearer now, no longer thick with mildew and rot.
Everyone, Logan included, was eager for a change—especially when it came to their current attire.
Logan longed to strip off his sticky, sweat-soaked hoodie. The fabric clung uncomfortably to his skin, making each step feel heavier. Though he had a feeling the shirt underneath wasn't much better, the urge to peel it off was still strong.
Even so, he forced himself to ignore the discomfort.
Dwelling on it wouldn't help.
Instead, he turned his attention to the hallway the three otherworlders were leading them through, doing his best to focus on the details of their new surroundings.
The ceiling stretched four or five meters high, with elegant crystal chandeliers hanging at measured intervals. They bathed the corridor in bright light, adding even more radiance to the already sunlit path, as if the castle never had to concern itself with energy costs.
The corridor itself was just as grand in scale. Its generous width and towering height gave the group plenty of space to stretch out, making their procession feel less like a march and more like a royal tour. Benches and tables stood every few meters along the path, each adorned with fresh flowers and rich scarlet or gold tablecloths—a clear display of the kingdom's wealth and power.
To the left, tall windows offered a breathtaking view of the castle grounds. Beyond the glass, the students glimpsed sprawling medieval-style gardens and the rising towers of nearby buildings. On the right side of the corridor, doors lined the wall in perfect rhythm, spaced evenly every five meters or so.
It took them about ten minutes to walk from what seemed like a separate tower into the main part of the castle, following a long, straight path. Eventually, they climbed a short flight of stairs.
No one spoke during the ascent. Instead, they moved in silence, absorbing the opulence that surrounded them.
Their quiet walk only came to a halt when the voice of the princess rang out. With graceful authority, she called for the maids to divide the group and lead them into separate changing rooms.
Logan, with no say in the matter, followed the maid assigned to him. She was a small woman with light brown hair and a determined expression.
Without much ceremony, she gripped his hand firmly and pulled him along at a brisk pace, as if there was no time to waste.
She brought him to a modest room and offered him a towel.
"Do… do you need assistance bathing hero?"
Logan noticed a slight quiver in her expression; her voice filled with embarrassment. Naturally, Logan declined the offer, he did not know her or trust her.
As he entered, he began to inspect the room, still half-convinced this might all be a hoax—a prank—and that there would be hidden cameras waiting to catch him doing something dumb. But nothing happened.
"Hero? Uhm… we need to leave soon. Please take your shower."
Logan didn't respond. Instead, he moved slowly, still suspicious. He looked around a little more, checking the corners.
The room itself was simple, almost rustic, with a few wooden shelves and a large tub filled with steaming water. Though "bucket" might have been a better term, the sight of the warm bath was more than welcome.
Logan was curious about how bathing worked in this world.
He briefly considered asking the maid, who remained just outside the door, but decided instead to trust his instincts. After scanning the room for any hidden observers, he cautiously began to undress.
He dipped his toes into the tub to test the water. It was perfect—just hot enough to be relaxing without scalding. Several smaller buckets of clean water sat nearby, and he guessed they were for rinsing.
After washing his hands and splashing himself down, he poured some of the clean water over his body before stepping fully into the bath.
Five minutes passed. The warmth of the water slowly melted away his tension, and Logan found himself relaxing. Feeling safer now, he allowed himself to sink further into the soap-filled tub and began to wash his hair.
Running his fingers through the strands, he noticed just how long his rich chocolate-brown hair had grown—now trailing down below his shoulders.
He was just beginning to comb through the knots when a sudden knock at the door cut through the silence.
"I am sorry to rush you again hero… but the princess asked me to hurry… you…"
Along with her voice the sound of the knocking was sharp, quick, and clearly meant to hurry him along.
"Fine, I will be out in a few!"
Logan sighed as he began to remove any remaining soap from his body, Logan rose from the tub and reached for the two buckets nearby. He doused himself thoroughly, letting the clean water wash away the last of the suds.
Afterward, he gave a quick shake to avoid soaking the area around the large tub, then grabbed a towel from the shelf to dry off.
He groaned when his eyes fell on the plain clothing laid out for him—just a simple shirt and what looked suspiciously like tights in place of proper underwear.
The boy quickly figured the real clothing would probably be custom-made later. With that in mind, he called out to the maid to let her know he was done bathing.
The light brown hair maid entered promptly, carrying a length of string to take his measurements. She worked efficiently, then informed him to wait a few minutes while his new clothing was being prepared.
It didn't take long before she returned with three fresh items. First, she handed him a pair of smooth white pants and a plain white shirt, both of which he quickly slipped into. Then came a final piece—a white tunic with gold trim, to complete the look.
Logan could tell by the texture that the material was either fine silk or something very close to it. Everything felt incredibly light and soft on his skin, far more comfortable than anything he usually wore.
Still, the outfit was a bit too large for his tastes—and much too flashy.
Even the laceless shoes, which looked simple enough, felt oddly snug and supportive. As he walked around, he was struck by the sensation that he could leap higher than normal in them. The attire, while plain in design, was undeniably classy and well-crafted.
The only issue left was his beanie.
Logan, hoping to keep it, tried to slide it on discreetly—but the maid noticed immediately. She simply reached out her hand and asked for it, explaining that it needed to be washed.
"Hero, if you don't mind," she began with a polite but firm tone, "I asked around for some hats to be brought, since you were wearing one when you were summoned. Please decide if you want to wear one of the three I could find on short notice. If none of these are suitable, I can try looking for others."
She presented three hats for him to consider. One was shaped like a soft donut with cloth draped around the sides. Another was a simple white hood that concealed everything but the face. The last was a slanted hat with a feather attached, leaning more toward flair than function.
Logan looked at the options—and at the maid's unreadable expression. He nearly laughed out loud.
Still, rather than trouble her further, he chose the feathered hat and adjusted it into his usual emo style, letting his hair fall to cover part of his face. It wasn't perfect, but it was better than nothing.
There were no mirrors in the room, so he had to rely on the maid's neutral compliments for reassurance. Deep down, he could only hope the other students had it worse.
He quickly thanked the maid for her help and stepped out into the hallway where the class was scheduled to regroup.
Logan was the fourth to finish. The three other boys were already seated nearby, dressed in outfits nearly identical to his—except for one detail. Logan was the only one wearing headgear.
Naturally, he couldn't avoid the looks they gave him. Their eyes lingered just a little too long, clearly focused on the absurdity of his unique, feathered hat.
Logan kept a composed demeanor as he walked past them, or tried to.
He then took a seat on one of the nearby benches. Leaning his head back and closing his eyes, he did his best to appear fast asleep while waiting for the others.
That illusion didn't last long.
The sound of footsteps approaching disrupted his stillness as more of the male students entered the hallway, their casual conversations filling the space. Thankfully, none of them chose to sit near him or try to engage.
Logan remained in his resting position for about thirty minutes, trying to block out the noise around him.
Still, he couldn't help becoming absorbed in bits of a conversation that caught his attention.
As expected from teenage boys, some were whispering about how beautiful the maids looked and the fun they had while with them, while others were discussing his hat—apparently, he was the only one who had bothered to wear one in the end.
Fortunately, the sound of voices coming from the opposite side of the corridor—separated from them by the stairs—quickly silenced the chatter.
The sudden hush made Logan wonder about the strange calm that had settled over the boys' side.
He opened his eyes and glanced across the hallway. The girls had begun arriving, wearing a range of colorful outfits, each adorned with different accessories and varying amounts of makeup.
Even Silvia, with her smaller-than-average frame, approached wearing a shy expression—but somehow still managed to look quite charming.
Logan tried to maintain an uninterested look, but his gaze couldn't help drifting toward Lisa. Positioned at the center of the group and surrounded by compliments from the other girls, she was easy to spot.
She wore a gleaming silver gown with a refined, elegant design. Her light ash-brown hair was left down to her waist, held in place by a delicate silver floral ornament that pinned back just enough to frame her features.
It was obvious the people in charge of dressing them had given extra attention to Lisa. She wore noticeably more jewelry than anyone else in the class.
Logan quietly observed her beet-red face and downcast eyes as she tried her best to offer polite thanks for every compliment thrown her way.
In a way, he felt relieved. The image of a nervous, overwhelmed Lisa felt more familiar—more human—than the perfectly composed girl he once knew.
When they first arrived in this world, he hadn't gone out of his way to check on her. She, too, had tried to avoid attention, even going so far as to subtly turn away to avoid meeting his eyes.
Still, Logan's attention wasn't only on her. Another student caught his eye—Alma. She wore a scarlet gown that reflected her strong sense of fashion, her golden hair pulled back into a tidy bun held in place by a small fan-shaped ornament.
She looked as refined as ever, effortlessly drawing eyes without trying.
Ms. Claire, dressed in a long, majestic brown gown layered with sleek black silk beneath, was the third woman in the group who drew Logan's attention. Her hair was styled neatly in a bun, with side-swept bangs in the front and two long strands of ebony-black hair cascading down from each ear. A delicate, thin gold tiara rested atop her head, subtle yet regal.
Of course, Logan—being a guy—couldn't help but notice the design of her dress, particularly around the chest, which made it far easier to observe her mature, womanly figure, usually concealed beneath her professional attire.
Still, it wasn't just her appearance that caught his eye.
He noticed something else: she was staring at the princess with a slightly confused expression.
As Logan would later learn, the two had exchanged words earlier while the students were bathing. Whatever disagreement they'd had, it left Ms. Claire waiting for a private explanation about the summoning ceremony—one the princess had postponed until later.